


Blue Heart

by Our_FireySky



Series: Red Mountain, Red Ice, Blue Blood [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst??, Carl is android dad, Depressed Cole, Hanc and cconnor must be protecced, Hank hit like a truck by all da feels, M/M, Malcolm the RK800, Malcolm ur a dick k?, Markus helps sort out feels, Oh shit Connor's feels are out, People can be dicks sometimes, Yet another nightmare oh jeez, god tf is this shit, haha this sucks, mentions of depression, seriously u read all these? noice, smol beans on de case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-06-21 02:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15547728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Our_FireySky/pseuds/Our_FireySky
Summary: Connor fights with his feelings, but Markus and Carl show him he doesn't have to. Also, Malcolm?Plez read first in series, otherwise won't make all that much sense





	1. Questioning

**Author's Note:**

> Why bother questioning if you are going to deny the truth you find afterward? After all, the truth is not what you want, but confirmation of your current beliefs.

 

Connor wasn’t sure when these feelings for the Lieutenant— Hank, as they were off-duty— had begun. The first memory he had of these strange wants about a month ago, when, while lost in his own thoughts, he discovered the want to be hugged once more by him. He did not know why, but the prospect of him touching Hank— of Hank touching him— made his processor elevate the amount of thirium going to his face.

 Connor had found some Playboy magazines in Hank’s room the last time he was allowed in. Curiosity getting the better of him, he briefly looked at the index for one and chose to read an article: ’21 Best Sex Positions for You and Your Partner’. He was intrigued by the way humans attempt to find pleasure, and also, if he was being completely honest with himself and the person reading this, was curious about what it felt like.

He asked Hank about trying it, and the response he got was disappointing: Sex was between lovers, not good friends.

It was after that incident that Connor realized that his curiosity was abnormal. Though he could go to the Eden Club and figure it out that way, as he had no romantic partner to be faithful to, he found that he didn’t want to. That the curiosity was not just what it would feel like, but what it would feel like with Hank.

Those feelings confused Connor to a great extent. The thirium rush to his face while thinking about Hank and the want to have intercourse were signs of a feeling humans called ‘love’, but he didn’t love Hank… did he?

Correction: he hoped he wasn’t in love with Hank. Hank would, obviously, reject him, and the difficulty of working would go up by 43% because of emotional reactions and instability.

So, it was best if he didn’t love Hank. He wasn’t sure if he did or not, but with the evidence stacked against his wishes, he could only hope.

 

——

 

The ride to the interrogation room was silent and tense. Hank and Connor didn’t talk about how to pry the information out of Paul, as they should have. They were both afraid Connor would lose his temper. But the silence wasn’t much better.

Hank had offered his hand silently and Connor had taken it. He didn’t want to think about what Paul had done, and the distraction was extremely useful. After all, at the rate he was going he would need to buy some thirium before a reminder came up in his vision every 20 minutes.

Hank had been the first to break the contact, opening his car door and slowly stepping out without looking at Connor. Connor got out as well. 

“Well, here we are,” Hank said, standing in front of the large precinct. “You think he’ll be excited to see us?”

“Not in the least,” Connor said, some anger seeping into his voice. Hank noticed.

“Connor, take a deep breath, okay?”

He did so. The action calmed him down, strangely.

They locked eyes.

“Ready, Connor?”

“Whenever you are, Lieutenant.”

Hank nodded and walked forward, the automatic doors opening. Connor followed.

 

…

 

Paul sat there, smug-ass look on his face that made both detectives want to punch him, Connor more than Hank. “Well, well, well. Look what decided to show up.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, you scum,” Hank spat for Connor. “You’re facing a first-degree felony with a punishment of up to 99 years in prison and a fine up to 100 thousand dollars. Judging by Judge Fieldstone’s hate for Red Ice dealers and all the lives you’ve ruined, I’d say you’re lookin’ at being in jail for the rest of your life.”

Connor had the urge to match the smugness on Paul’s face.

Hank continued. “Unless, of course, you willingly give us information on the whereabouts of your superior.”

“Like hell I’m helping you and your plastic pet.” Connor glared viciously, but Hank just shrugged.

“That’s fine. See, one of the many benefits of having an android as a partner—“

“Besides the fact that they have the tightest holes you’ll ever fuck,” Paul interjected, making Connor see red warnings all across his vision.

“—Is that they can easily access your electronics. All your calls and text messages found and processed within seconds, with no compromises to the fine or sentence. Without your cooperation, it’ll be easy enough to get a warrant to look through your electronics. So,” Hank rested his hands on the desk separating him from Paul menacingly. “What’ll it be?”

Paul shrugged, though his heart rate was elevated and his pupils were dilated.

“If you wanna find my superior, go to the abandoned Denny’s on Clay Street, next Tuesday. Don’t let your plastic pet get too close, though…” He grinned. “It’ll be difficult to separate them.”  
  
“The hell do you mean by that?”

Paul leaned back in the chair. “I’ve think I’ve told you all you need, and nothing else will be said without my lawyer present. Goodbye.”

They stared at him, and he stared back. Though Hank didn’t like being ordered out, Paul was right. He had all he needed.

“C’mon, Connor, let’s get the fuck out of here.” Hank turned and left, but Connor stayed for a moment.

They stared at each other for a second.

“You disgust me,” Connor hissed. Paul shrugged again, smirking.

“Whatever you say, Malcolm.”

Connor’s LED spun yellow for a second. Malcolm? Was that Paul’s name for him?

The LED went back to blue, and he left the interrogation room. He didn’t want to look at that monster anymore.

 

…

 

“I might as well write a report before Jeffery gets on my ass about it,” Hank told Connor, sitting down at the dining room table. It was three in the afternoon, and they had just gotten home. Hank had repeatedly tried to steer them off course to Chicken Feed, but Connor called him out on it until they were at the front door. Sumo had greeted them excitedly, glad they were home so he could be fed.

Connor nodded. “Would you like me to help, Lieutenant?” Hank shook his head.

“Are you kidding? You’ve done a lot today, and the past week. You deserve a break. Watch a movie or read a book or something.”  
  
Connor thought about arguing, but after a bit of thought, he realized there was something that he would like to do.

“Okay, Lieutenant.”

 

Call _Android #684 842 971?_

 

_YES                               NO_

Connor selected 'YES'.

 

_Calling Android #684 842 971…_

 

_Connor? Is everything okay?_

_I believe so, but I have a question. May I come over to your and Carl’s house?_ He asked.

_Of course! You are always welcome._

He smiled, a small bit of relief making sigh. Thank _you. I’ll be there soon._

 

_Call Disconnecting…_

 

Connor blinks, LED going from yellow to blue  as he snapped back to reality. “I’m going to visit Markus, Lieutenant.”

Hank grunted. “Yeah, okay. Tell him I said ‘Hi’.”

“Will do.” Connor left the house and turned on the car with a glance. Maybe Markus could help him with something…

 

…

 

“ _Connor identified. Welcome, friend._ ”

Carl’s automatic doors opened, and Connor walked into the house.

“Connor, welcome! What brings you to our humble abode?” Carl asks, rolling into the hallway.

“Hello, Carl. I’m looking for Markus.”  
  
He smiled warmly. “He’s in the living room, playing the piano. Would you like some tea?” 

“Thank you, but I don’t yet have bio-components allowing me to eat and drink human food yet.”

Carl nodded; he understood how expensive they were. “Alright. If you need anything, I’ll be in my painting studio.”  
  
“Thank you.” Carl left, and Connor slowly approached the living room.

Markus was playing Mozart’s Symphony No. 40 in G minor, KV. 550 perfectly, and it was so beautiful that Connor did not interrupt him. He stood behind Markus for a solid five minutes before his friend stopped and turned around. “Ah. Hello, Connor. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing your reflection on the piano or if my eyes were playing tricks on me.”

“Hello, Markus. How are you?” Connor replied, attempting to make small talk.

“I am well, thank you. Please, sit down.” Markus gestured to the sofa facing the piano, and Connor did as he was told. 

“Lieutenant Anderson says hello.”

“Please tell him I say hello as well.” He turned to face Connor. “But you are not here to send messages. Tell me, Connor: what is on your mind?”

Connor’s LED whirred yellow with an occasional spot of red, unsure of how to ask. “Markus…”

He hesitated once more before finally blurting it out. “How did you know you were in love with Simon?”

Markus stared at him, a bit shocked. Connor felt it necessary to explain himself.

“I mean, I believe I might be in love with someone, but… I’m not sure. So I’m wondering what it feels like, so I can know if I really am in love or not. Of course, I’m probably not, but I’d like to know, just in case.”

Markus gave him a small grin. “Well, considering this person has you talking extremely… inefficiently, I’d say there’s a good chance of you harboring romantic feelings for them.”

Connor blushed slightly.

Markus’s grin vanished, and he slowly gained a faraway look in his eyes. “I’m not entirely sure when I knew I was in love with Simon. There was just a day when I realized my feelings for him were different than the ones I had for, say, North and Josh. My heart would skip a beat when he entered a room, heat would rush to my cheeks when he smiled at me, and I always wanted to look at and be near him… I thought about these wants and reactions, and I asked myself if I was in love. If I would die for him, if I would give up everything if he asked me to. And my answer was yes. And I knew I was in love.”

Connor was staring at him intensely, taking in what he was saying. He had many, if not all, of the symptoms Markus described, but... he still denied it. It couldn’t be true. “I… I feel these things, too, but I’m still not sure.”

“You don’t want to believe you are in love?” Markus asked, head tilting slightly.

Connor did not reply.

His friend smiled softly. “Come with me, Connor.”

Markus stood up and walked, and Connor followed him.

 

~

 

“Carl, would you mind if we use a canvas of yours?” Carl gave Markus the same soft smile Connor had been given not too long ago.

“Of course not, Markus. Would you too like me to leave?”

“Thank you, but we’ll be fine.” Markus took an 11x14 canvas and put it on an easel, adjusting it so Connor could use it comfortably. He handed Connor an art palette filled with any color he could think of and a paint brush. “Close your eyes.”

Connor did so.

“Think about warmth, and security. About home and safety, a calm sort of happiness. Take these feelings and paint them.”  
  
After a bit of hesitation, Connor slowly dips his brush into a bit of paint and brushed it against the canvas. Twice. He goes for more paint, and gently pushes the brush on the canvas again.

 

And again. 

 

And again.

 

In a few minutes, Connor opens his eyes to see Hank smiling at him, an emotion in his eyes that makes Connor’s body temperature subconsciously rise. He glanced at Markus. His arms were crossed, and he was nodding to himself.

They were silent.

“A beautiful picture, Connor,” Carl said, making Connor jump slightly. “It’s obvious that the man is in love. Just look at his eyes! So much powerful emotion hidden behind them.”  
  
“That is exactly what I was thinking.” Markus turns and meets Connor’s gaze. “How does his expression make you feel, Connor?”

Blood rushed once more to Connor’s cheeks.

“I see.” Markus smiles at him once more. “I believe you are in love, Connor.”

Connor looked away. “Are you sure?” Markus’s smile faded a bit.

“Why do you keep doubting?”  
  
“I…” He could feel both of them staring at him. He looked back at the painting. At Hank. “I don’t want to be,” he admitted.

They were silent. Connor felt the need to fill the silence.

“I’m afraid,” he continued. “I-I don’t want him to reject me, which is extremely plausible. I’m afraid of ruining our friendship in hopes of something more.”  
  
“But you are unsatisfied with your current relationship with him.”

“Yes, but—“

Carl stepped into the conversation, cutting Connor off. “When I was thirty, I met the woman of my dreams. She was beautiful and intelligent with a wicked sharp wit. It didn’t take long for me to realize I was in love with her. So, about a month after our meeting, I asked her out on a date. The anxiety I felt was nearly unbearable, but not nearly as unbearable as living without knowing if my love was unrequited. So, take an old man’s advice, Connor. It doesn’t matter if he says yes or no; find out before it starts slowly eating at you until it is all you can think about.”

 Connor’s LED was whirring yellow the entire time Carl talked, but it slowly returned to blue. He nodded. “Thank you, Carl. I’ll… I’ll ask him.”

Carl nodded back, the same soft smile appearing on both his and Markus’s face. 

Connor faced Markus. “I’ll be heading home now. Thank you for letting me come here.”

“Our home is always welcome to you, Connor.” He smiled back at the two, then turned to leave.

When he was at the automatic door, he stopped and turned. “Carl?”  
  
“Yes, Connor?”  
  
“Did she agree to a date?” Carl grinned slowly. 

 

 

“Yes, Connor. She did.”


	2. oh jeez angst mcangstypants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank has a nightmare about Cole. Cole's death, Connor comforts. Really just filler until the next chapter. Now THAT one's gonna be awkward asffff

By the time Connor got home, at 7:03:48, Hank had finished writing his report and was watching a basketball game, slowly finishing his second beer. Connor opened the door with a bit of difficulty, carrying groceries with both arms, and Hank turned to look at him. He didn’t say anything, however.

“Who’s winning? asked Connor.

“Gears,” he replied. “Want help with the groceries?”

“No, thank you.” Connor set the bags down and started putting away their contents. “Have you had dinner?”

“Just some crackers.”

“Would you like me to cook something for you?”

Hank sighed. “You don’t have to cook for me, you know.”

Connor’s LED blinked. “I know. I do it because I like to.”

“…Oh,” Hank said and turned his attention back to the game. A player on the Swordfish dunked, tying up the scores. He cursed under his breath. About a minute later, he heard the electric oven click on.

“What’re you making?”

“Hamburgers,” Connor said, dropping the freshly made meat patty into an oiled pan. It hissed.

“Hamburgers? Why hamburgers?”

Connor looked at him, mouth twisted up slightly. Hank wondered why it made his heart beat faster. “I have enough ingredients to make a green salad, Hank. Would you prefer that?”

“Come to think of it, hamburgers sound great right about now,” he said hastily. Connor chuckled, and Hank’s heartbeat increased even more. What the hell…? He looked again at the television, but didn’t pay attention to it.

About fifteen minutes went by before he snapped out of his confused thoughts. “Hank? Hank?”

“Yeah, Connor?”

The android’s head was tilted a bit. “Are you alright? I have tried calling your name with different inflections, most of which have worked in the past, for twenty seconds, but you did not respond. Furthermore, your heartbeat is quicker than normal, and your face is flushed slightly.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… I don’t know, just thinking.”

Connor’s LED went yellow. “About what?”

“I’m… not entirely sure,” he admitted. Connor’s LED spun more before returning to blue.

“Well, whatever it was, your dinner is ready.”

“Oh, thanks.” Hank got up and went over to the table. Connor watched his movements carefully, analyzing. “Smells great.”

He took a bite and hummed. “Tastes great, too.”

“Thank you, Hank. I’m glad you enjoy it.” With a blank stare, Connor scanned Hank. Sky blue eyes, scruffy beard, hair past his ears that should really be washed tomorrow. Brown coat on that he hardly ever took off, blue collared shirt with a darker blue shirt underneath. In his opinion, Hank was the most handsome man he’d ever met.

How had it taken so long to realize he loved Hank?

_WARNING: STARING AT PERSON. ACTON MAY BE SEEN AS HOSTILE._

_Yeah, Yeah,_ he thought, willing it away.

“You can stop analyzing me now, Connor,” Hank said as soon as the warning vanished, a tint of annoyance in his voice.

“I wasn’t analyzing, Hank. Simply staring.”

He raised his eyebrows and gave Connor a sly smile. “Like what you see?” He asked teasingly. 

Connor forced the temperature in his cheeks down. “Seeing as though that was a rhetorical question, I shall not answer.”

The sly smile turned into a grin. “You’re getting better at recognizing those kinds of things, Connor! But don’t say your thought process out loud. Just don’t answer at all.”

“Understood, Hank.”

They sat (well, Connor unnervingly stood,) In silence for a minute until Hank had finished his burger. When he did, he pushed the chair away from the table and stood up with a grunt. “Damn, that was one of the best burgers I’ve had in a while. Two weeks, to be exact.”

“And with half the calories, it seemed like the perfect way to commemorate your Chicken Feed-less streak.”

“Yeah, Yeah.” Hank sounded annoyed but the slight smile on his face told Connor his teasing wasn’t taken seriously. “I’m gonna catch some Z’s. Tomorrow’s a long day.”

Connor nodded. “Goodnight, Hank.”

Hank walked to his bedroom, waving. “‘Night, Connor.”

When he was out of sight, Connor placed the dish in the sink, sat on the couch and entered standby mode.

 

…

 

 

It was approximately 1:28:34 when Connor received the option to wake up.

 

_Repetitive, Abnormal Noise Heard. Exit Standby Mode?_

_Yes                          No_

 

Intrigued, Connor woke up. After his senses oriented themselves, he could hear a faint cry from Hank’s bedroom.

He became worried.

Connor rushed into the room. The Lieutenant’s back was toward him. “Hank, is everything alright?“

He got a whimper in response, a sound which sounded very similar to the name of his deceased son. Connor ran a quick analysis and learned that he was still asleep. Quickly, he shook Hank awake. He felt the Lieutenant tense up.

“Hank, you were having a nightmare,” Connor said before Hank could ask him what the hell he was doing. But instead of relaxing in Connor’s grip or giving him a witty retort, Hank put his hands on the android’s back and pulled him into a hug. He pressed his eyes into the crook of Connor’s neck, sobbing silently. Connor, after a few seconds of processing, hugged him back.

“He had just started to want to live again, Connor,” Hank told him between sobs. “I was taking him home. From the hospital. We were gonna watch… a movie, eat some popcorn. He had just…”

Hank broke down, no longer able to speak. Connor patted his back and whispered comforting words in his ear.

“It’s okay, Hank. You’re okay. I’m here. Shh…”

Slowly, Hank’s sobs turned into sniffles, and his clutch on the back of Connor’s shirt loosened. “Fucking hell. Sorry, Connor, I—“

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Hank,” he replied. “The loss of a child is one of the most emotionally painful things that can happen to someone. I am sorry you had to suffer through it.”

Hank sniffed. “Not your fault.”

“Exactly.”

He sighed and completely let go of Connor’s shirt. Connor let go as well, and he flopped on the bed. “Cole had severe depression, y’know. He never told me jack, I only knew when the school psychiatrist told me. And it was worse than she thought, too. After a week, I took him to a therapist. It was a while before he finally opened up to her, and as soon as he did, she told me medication was the best course of action.”

Connor was silent, listening. Hank sighed again.

“I was hesitant. But after she gave me a brief synopsis of what he told her, how he thought Melissa leaving was all his fault, how the kids and sometimes even his own teachers bullied him, how he blamed himself for me drinking myself into oblivion after he was asleep, et cetera et cetera, I was dumbfounded. Angry. And embarrassed. I agreed to it almost immediately after that.

“Afterwards, I started cleaning up my act, made preparations to get him moved to a different school, shit like that. We tried a hell of a lot of different meds, but none really seemed to work. There would be times where I would hear him cry in his bedroom while I was getting ready for bed, way after I had tucked him in. It broke my heart, Connor. It really did.” Hank’s voice cracked, and Connor subconsciously grabbed his hand to support him. “Nothing we tried worked, and he was getting tired, Connor. Tired and afraid he couldn’t be ‘fixed’. I told him that he didn’t need to be fixed, that I loved him the way he was, but he told me he didn’t love himself the way he was. That was the first and only time I cried in front of him.

“That same night he told me he had a headache right before I tucked him in, so I gave him an Advil. A blood thinner, you know. He asked for another, but it wouldn’t be safe for him to take to, so I just put it on his nightstand for him to take just in case he woke up and still had a headache. I tucked him in and watched the gears game for about a half-hour, forty-five minutes, when I decided to go get ready for bed. I walk into the bathroom to brush my teeth and… Saw him sitting on the edge of the bathtub, head against the sink blood slowly pouring down the bathtub drain. I called his name. He said… He said, ‘I’m sorry, Dad, but I don’t want to be alive anymore.’” A fresh tear rolled down his cheek. Connor squeezed his hand.

“He put up a fight, but I bandaged his cuts as well as I could and took him to the hospital. He passed out on the way there. By the time I got there, he had already lost 40% of his blood and needed a transfusion immediately. They kept him in the hospital to make sure he did no further harm to himself. I visited every day before and after work. I remember everyone at the DPD, even Gavin, signing his ‘Get Well Soon’ card. There was a kind nurse at the hospital who had also struggled with finding medication for her depression that actually worked. She told me what had eventually worked was thyroid medication. I told his therapist, and we were able to get him on some T3 and T4 medicine. He was doing so much better within a matter of days.

“Eventually, after seeing this improvement (and other legal matters), the hospital let him go home on the night of October 11th. It was dark and icy, so I was driving carefully. Cole was talking about how much he wanted to see Sumo when the truck hit us.” Hank’s voice cracked once more, and he paused.

He began again a few seconds after. “I was holding his hand when he died. He was looking at me, crying, but I knew he was going to make it because life couldn’t be this cruel. And he told me that he didn’t want to die, not yet, that he wanted to live now, so I told him he was going to, but he was losing blood and he told me he was tired, and I told him to stay awake. He murmured ‘just a little nap couldn’t hurt, Dad.’ He closed his eyes and… And… God _DAMN_ it!”

He pounded his fist into the mattress. “…He was only six,” Hank whispered. It felt as though Connor’s thirium pump was constricting. “I miss him, Connor.”

“I know, Hank. I know.” He patted Hank’s hand. They were both silent for a while.

Finally, Hank drew in a shaky breath. “You wouldn’t mind staying until I fall asleep, would you? I’m just— I mean, I’d rather not be on my own right now.”

“Of course not,” Connor replied, climbing into the bed next to him.

“Wait, wait a minute—“

Connor’s LED spun yellow. “I’m sorry. Is this not what you meant? I can get out.”

Hank felt his face flush. “N-no, that’s alright. Not what I was expecting, ’s all.”

“Very well, then.” Connor squeezed Hank’s hand slightly and closed his eyes. “Good night, Hank.”

Hank let out a short huff that Connor assumed was a sad laugh. “…’Night, Connor.”

 

_Enter Standby Mode?_

_Yes                No_

 

 

_Entering Standby Mode…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hank: *hates life*
> 
> connor: why you sad? why you mad? when you can be.... glade
> 
> hank: god i love you


	3. lmao sucks to suck Con

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Hank, on their way to Denny's. Also, Malcolm?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao the moment no one's been waiting for

 

When Hank woke up, Connor was still by his side, holding the older man’s hand and running a thumb affectionately over it. “‘Morning, Connor,” he said. The thumb stopped.

“Good morning Hank. How was the rest of your night?” Not that he didn’t already know, but small talk seemed appropriate at this time.

“Better. Look, about that— I’m sorry I dragged you into my shit like that, I—“

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Hank,” Connor said, cutting him off. “You cannot control your dreams or your past. Besides, as I’ve said before, adapting to human unpredictability is one of my specialties. And nightmares are certainly unpredictable.” Connor winked at him, and Hank could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks.

“Y-yeah, well. Um.” Hank tried not to be a sputtering mess for a good ten seconds before succeeding. “L-let’s just get ready for the day, yeah?”

“Very well, Hank. Though I did enjoy staying in bed with you like this.”

This time, Hank failed in his attempt at not jumbling his words like a complete idiot, as Connor reluctantly let go of his hand while getting out of the bed. “I—  you can’t—  can’t—  J-Jesus, Connor!”

“Are you requesting to talk to Markus? I can make an arrangement—“

“No! Fucking hell, Connor, you can’t just say you like sleeping beside someone!”

“…Understood, Hank. I will refrain from saying that in the future.” But he did not understand.

“Good.” Hank got out of the bed and left without another word.

As soon as he got to the bathroom, he shut the door and put his palms on his forehead. God, Connor had to stop doing that shit! Asking to fuck him, saying he liked sleeping next to him… one of these days, he was gonna think Connor wanted to be a different kind of partner. God, just the thought made his cheeks red. Connor, having feelings for him? Loving him… wanting hi—?

Hank splashed some water on his face before he could finish the thought, already at half-mast. There was no fuckin’ way Connor would want a washed up detective like him, and there was no fuckin’ way he was gonna get his hopes up for them to get crushed this late in life, damn it.

…Shit.

~

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. They talked, pissed off Gavin, and did paperwork until dark. Connor eventually did get Gavin his coffee, but when Gavin refused to drink it, it somehow found its way out of Connor’s hand and into the prick’s face. Gavin let loose curses that would make a sailor ashamed, and Hank laughed harder than he had years.

It was a good day, but the night was different.

After everyone had left, Connor and Hank(plus Ryan in a different car for backup), found themselves driving to the abandoned Denny’s. Hank was behind the wheel, Connor twirling a coin nervously in his right hand, tapping his fingers with his left.

“I have a bad feeling about this, Lieutenant,” he said.

Hank nodded. “I know. Me too. It’s like we’ve messed up without beginning.” The street light ahead turned red, and they stopped.

“…We should’ve pressed Paul for more information, Lieutenant.”

“I agree. But there’s no time left.”

“I know. but all the same,—“

“Connor.” The light turns green, and Hank stepped on the gas a little too aggressively. “What the hell’s the matter?”

Connor hesitated. “It’s just… something Paul said. He called me Malcolm. It was cryptic, and unnerving. I think we don’t know what we’re getting into.

Hank laughed. “Really? An imbecile tries to sound mysterious, and you buy into that shit? I thought you were above that, Connor.”

“I just want everyone to be safe, Lieutenant. I don’t want you or Ryan to suffer because of my mistakes.”

Hank shrugged. “It happens, Con. Besides, it’s too late now; we’re here.” Hank parked the car across the street, not wanting to be too obvious, and got out of the car. Connor followed.

_I’ll send a distress signal if things go wrong_ , he mentally told Ryan.

_Alright. Be safe_ , the other android replied.

Connor smirked, but there was no humor behind it. _I’ll try._

By the time he finished the conversation, Hank was a few yards ahead, and he had to trot to catch up. They crossed the street, and he put a hand on Hank’s shoulder. Hank stiffened.

“Let me go first,” Connor said. “If anything or anyone is waiting, I’ll handle them.” It took a second to Hank to process the words, to busy focusing on that warm hand, but he nodded.

Connor went ahead.

He opened the door and stepped inside. There was a lack of any smell, and it was surprisingly clean. He took out a flashlight for Hank, passing it to him silently.

He walked further into the empty Denny’s.

After a second, Paul’s voice rang out. “I’m here,” it said.

There was a wait.

“Good,” Connor said. The lights flipped on, and before Connor knew it, Connor was jumping down from a beam in the ceiling, trying to snap his neck. He hardly dodged and gripped Connor with his hand.

There was a quick, intense fight in which both Connor and Connor exchanged many blows. Connor was bleeding from his arm. Eventually, Connor got Connor’s head in his hands and was just about to break his neck, when—

“HANDS IN THE AIR! _BOTH_ OF YOU!” Hank’s voice rang out, a gun pointed at both of them. Slowly, Connor stepped away from Connor.

“Why are you doing this? I had him in my hands! We could’ve solved this thing once and for all!” Connor looked at Connor in shock. That wasn’t… How did he…?

“Because we need Malcolm alive!”

Connor gaped at Hank. “I’m not Malcolm! I’m Connor.”

Connor looked at Connor in disbelief. “I’m Connor.”

Connor looked back at Connor. “No, you’re not!”

Connor turned back to Hank. “He must have accessed my memory.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. And we’re not going anywhere until I figure out who is who.”

Connor let his shoulders relax. “I did just tell you this was a bad idea.”

Connor glared at him. “You didn’t! I did!”

Connor glared back. “Lying won’t do you any good, Malcolm.”

Connor could feel his blood start to boil. “You’re not going to get away with this!”

“I should be saying that to you.”

“ _ENOUGH_! Fucking hell!” Hank took the safety off, and both Connor and Connor looked at him.

“How about you ask us something only the real Connor would know?” They both said at the same time.

“Jesus. This is even harder than the last time I found myself in this predicament.” He sighed. “Fine. Let’s start with something simple. What’s my dog’s name?”

“Sumo!” They both said, once again in unison. Hank groaned.

“Shit. Alright, who’s the person that gave us the info to come here?”

“He’s not a person. He’s a monster.” Connor said. Connor scowled.

“His name was Paul,” he replied to Hank. “And he was not just a red ice dealer, like Malcolm, but also a rapist.”

“He abused Sara for ninety-six says in a row,”

“Raped her twice a day.”

“God, I’m gonna need an aspirin after this,” Hank mutters. Connor silently agrees.

“We’re not getting anywhere,” Connor said impatiently. He took a step forward.

“Don’t move another fucking step,” Hank growled. Connor put his hand out. Connor watched him with a fierce intensity. What the hell was he planning on doing…?

“I…” Connor laughed nervously. “This is difficult to say.” He took a deep breath.

 

“I… love you, Hank.”

 

 

Connor stared at him in shock. He… he didn’t just…

“I realized it a few days ago when I was talking to Markus about it. He told me that his thirium pump would skip a beat when Simon entered a room, and how heat would rush to his cheeks when Simon smiled at him. He said he always wanted to be near him and look at him, and that after a bit of self-reflection he realized he was in love. And… I feel the same way. You light up my world, Hank. You’re amazing, and brave, and caring and funny and…”

 

Connor offered a weak smile. “And I’m in love with you.”

Hank almost dropped his gun. He wasn’t focusing on that anymore. Connor…

Meanwhile, Connor didn’t know what to do. Tears began to pool in his eyes. Did he just lose this battle?

Hank…

Connor took another step forward, and Hank came to his senses. Without a second thought, and a face hard as steel, he put a bullet in the confessing Connor’s gut.

He fell to his knees, face now showing hatred, not sheepish adoration. “Fuck you,” Malcolm said, voice half an octave lower. He fell face first on the ground.

Hank let out a sigh, but Connor was still stiff as a board. “God damn.” He picked Malcolm up by the collar at first, then settled on dragging him by the arm and walked straight out of the Denny’s, Connor following after half a second’s thought.

After a surprisingly long, awkward walk, Hank reached Ryan’s can and piled Malcolm in there. Ryan, shocked, was about to ask what happened to Connor, but saw another RK800 model out of the corner of his eye. “Did you shoot the right one?” He asks.

“I would be dead right now if I didn’t, Ryan.”

“Hmm, True.”

Hank shut the door and made his way over to the other police car, head spinning. One thought stood out to him, though:

Damn, I need a drink.

So drink he did. He found the whiskey Connor had hidden(well, Connor found it for him without even being asked), and downed three fingers worth as soon as possible.

He let go of the breath he was holding and, for the first time since Malcolm’s confession, he dared to look at Connor. His LED was spinning yellow with a blink of red occasionally, and he was watching Hank nervously. “You look like you have something to say,” he said, half teasing him.

“…I do. Hank, what Malcolm was true. I’m sorry.”

He gave a crooked grin, but his eyes didn’t crinkle when he was truly smiling. “‘Was afraid of that.”

They were both silent for a while. “If I may be so bold, Hank, I would like to know if my feelings are requited.”

“Gonna have to ask at a later time, Connor.I’m still thinking about it.”

“…Oh. I see.”

Hank poured himself another shot.

“…Hank?” He drained the shot glass.

“Yeah, Con?” The nickname made Connor’s chest ache. The— what did humans call it?— friend-zoning physically hurt, and he had to take a second to recover.

After blinking a few times, he asked his question. “How did you know it was me?” Hank gave a short chuckle.

“Well, you’ve never called me Hank on the job. Why start now?”

Connor’s LED spun yellow for a second, and he tilted his head. Then went back to blue, and he smiled. “What a minute, unimportant detail to know about me, Hank.”

Hank grunted. “Yeah, why?”

His smile widened. “No reason. I’ll make you some dinner.”

Hank looked at him side-eyed. “… Everything alright, Con?”

Connor gave him a mock-confused stare.

“Of course. Everything’s almost perfect.”

 

Hank sighed with a small smile and poured another shot. Two fingers worth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> connor: I love you  
> hank: *shoots connor*  
> real connor: wow you really don't think i love you huh  
> hank: no it's cause of a tiny detail i noticed about you because i loVE YOU TOO  
> connor: AAAAAAAAAA :D

**Author's Note:**

> markus: don be afraid to catch feels  
> carl: i know u ain't afraid to catch feels
> 
> hank: feels wit me  
> connor: uhm  
> hank: i didn't say anything


End file.
